


Appetite

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [26]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fade to Black, Fluff, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 16:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: They don’t need to spread the picnic blanket out over a planetary ring, but then, Bill isn’t sure that they need to eat, either.Pairing: Heather/Bill PottsPrompt: Picnic





	Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by imaginary_golux

They don’t need to spread the picnic blanket out over a planetary ring, but then, Bill isn’t sure that they need to eat, either. Conservation of mass and energy suggest they would occasionally need to replace the energy they consume, but those lectures with the Doctor seem so long ago...

“Penny for them?” Heather’s voice intrudes upon her mental peregrinations. 

“Just wondering: do we need to eat?”

Heather’s gaze is drawn by the planet below. “We can always pack it up, if you like. Go someplace else.”

“No, I mean…” Jesus, for a lesbian, she sure knows how to cock things up. “I want to eat with you. I like the taste of food, I like making small talk over cheese and pastries.” She plucks a grape and pops it into her girlfriend’s mouth. “But you know, is it physiologically required?”

“Oh, we could probably recharge in other ways. But I agree: this is much more fun.” Heather laughs and Bill wants to record it, use it as a ringtone. She sidles closer and kisses Bill on the cheek. “Croissant?”

“God, yes. I’m famished.” Bill rips a bite from the flaky treat, savors the butter in the dough and on her fingers. The cheese is rich and blue and the jam is just tart enough to tie the lot together. Heather licks a drop of it from Bill’s palm, and Bill moans _sotto voce_. “You are a _menace_.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Heather purrs lazily, and eats the most sinful grape since Nero’s Rome. (Bill knows this first hand. She was there, back when she was human.)

They finish eating, and then other pursuits, which leave them sticky and cooling in the vacuum. Bill flops onto her stomach and lets her hand dangle off the end of the blanket, letting the dust of the ring swirl around her fingertips. “Penny for them?” Heather asks again, her dirty blonde hair fanning over Bill’s bare hip as she reclines. 

“Wondering how this stuff tastes.”

“Lemon sherbet with a hint of pop rocks,” Heather replies instantly.

“Really?” Bill licks her finger than retches. “Ugh, that’s dreadful.” She can feel Heather’s laughter reverberate through her ribs. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Heather manages through titters of laughter. “But if it’s dessert you’re after, I know an ice cream parlor on--” Bill rolls over and bends over to silence her with a kiss. “Mm, if this is how you’re going to punish me, I think you’ve missed the point.” 

“Well,” Bill plucks up her sensuality and tries to exude it, whatever the hell that means, “how about if I leave you screaming? Does that count?”

“You know, I think it might…” Heather’s voice trails off as Bill’s mouth trails down her body. Bill smiles. She knows they don’t _need_ to do this, but sometimes it’s what you want that counts.


End file.
